


So Many Beds

by tisfan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24480112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: So, Bucky and Clint need a new bed...
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 24
Kudos: 155
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020





	So Many Beds

**Author's Note:**

> For Bucky Barnes Bingo Square B4 Clint/Bucky
> 
> Also from the joke going around Tumblr recently about [worst fanfic prompts](https://onthedriftinthetardis.tumblr.com/post/617029535845744640/worst-fanfic-prompts) (including funeral home meet cute and "so many beds")

Bucky could have sworn that he didn’t look at his phone for more than about four minutes; he got a beep for an email, and he was hoping to hear back about a contract job soon. It might be nice to have a job that wasn’t shooting at people, but hey, he’d only been out of the Army for less than a year, what did he know? He knew he still didn’t have steady work. He’d had a couple of contracts for doing heavy lifting and other stupid stuff like that, but not a real job, or a real paycheck.

What he did know was that, after half a year of being home and stepping cautiously around a super cute roomie who he wasn’t quite positive wasn’t hitting on him -- and he’d talked it out about sixty million times with his friends before finally taking a chance.

Six months in, Clint finally said, “Look, this is great and all, believe me, I love snuggling, but man, it’s gonna get hot soon, and sleeping two in a twin is just not going to cut it.”

Bucky had a small amount of savings; there really hadn’t been anything to spend money on aside from hookers and booze, while he was deployed, and no, really, not either of those either, because guess what, the middle east wasn’t big on actual relaxing. So, he had savings.

Which did not really mean he wanted to spend three hundred dollars or so on half a bed, and a boxspring, because he didn’t do that shit of sleeping on the floor. Plus sheets and pillows and all that stuff.

On the other hand, moving into the same bedroom with Clint would mean that they had a spare room in their apartment that they could use as an office.

Maybe he could get some work doing computer software. From home.

Bucky blinked at the email. “Your breakdown backup.” The fuck even was that? 

Spam, as it turned out. It didn’t seem to matter how careful he was, or how thoroughly he triaged his inbox, some amount of “let me sell you shit you don’t need and can’t afford” seemed to slip through.

All in all, though, he was looking at his phone for less than ten minutes. Probably.

And when he looked up, Clint was _gone_.

Like, not just not beside him, but gone.

He’d either kept going -- not noticing Bucky’s signal to stop a minute -- or he’d gone back.

But in either case, Bucky was now standing alone in the middle of one of those furniture outlet stores that was the size of an airplane hanger, filled with discount sofas and tables, as well as beds, televisions, and electronics.

And the worst part was, in order to give people the idea of space, the floorplan was made up of about half a hundred or so “room sized” display areas that weren’t evenly spaced. 

Which meant sight lines were nothing but a wish and a dream.

Bucky couldn’t see more than fifty feet in any direction.

Bucky wanted it known, period, that he wasn’t _scared_. That wasn’t even on the list. He was just _annoyed_. He was in a big ass furniture store. In New Jersey. Alone.

Because his partner-slash-boyfriend had vanished while Bucky looked like an email.

Annoyed.

Bucky called his name a few times, but Clint was partly deaf, and while he wore hearing aids, they didn’t always help. Especially not in a high noise clutter environment like this. He might even have taken the ‘aids out, if things were bothering him. Bucky usually signed when he talked anyway, just to be polite.

Deciding that Clint probably wouldn’t have gone on ahead, Bucky decided to backtrack through the last few showrooms.

No Clint.

He checked the room with the bare mattresses, piles and piles of them, for laying down on and testing -- Clint had laid down on about forty of them, and Bucky only two.

He couldn’t seem to relax enough to test a mattress -- with his boyfriend -- where people might see them. Call him a self-hating, still in the closet gay man. Which was kinda true, but also because laying down made him vulnerable, and he was still jittery from being in the Army where laying down sometimes meant people shot at you.

Some things took a long time to unlearn.

No Clint in the mattress room.

Bucky backtracked even further, thinking of the rows of sofas that Clint had tried, excited as hell about things like heated seats and consoles where you could store your remotes and cup holders and fancy gizmos.

“Can I help you find something, sir?”

“I’m lookin’ for my roommate,” Bucky said, scowling.

“Well, I can have him paged,” she suggested. “Since he’s probably not in the clearance section.”

“Yeah, we can try that,” Bucky said. Although it was entirely likely that Clint _was_ in the clearance section. He could be a real cheapskate that way, and maybe he was looking for a good deal there.

Bucky texted him like six times while the store intercom system went off. Nothing. 

Bucky wasn't worried.

Yet. 

"Do you have a first aid station?"

"Uh," the salesclerk said. "Technically, yes, because safety and liability, but there's never anyone there."

"Just point me, I'll check on it," he said. Clint was often sporting any number of bandaids and wrist compression grips from hurting himself.

It did take him a while to find the first aid station. But Clint wasn't there either.

Bucky even checked the kitchen area, since Clint had once fallen asleep on the table in Steve apartment and called it the best night of sleep he'd ever had.

Finally, sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, face buried in his hands, Bucky remembered a conversation they'd had, about Clint's brother Barney. 

"He always got the top bunk," Clint had complained. And you know I like high places."

“Miss,” he said. She didn’t look happy that he’d come back again, still sans companion. "Do you have any kid's beds? Like for two kids sharin' a room?"

The salesclerk looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, but that was okay. He was pretty sure she’d decided that he was imagining a roommate entirely. That said, she didn’t follow him this time, when she pointed the direction. Let the crazy guy be someone else’s problem.

The kids’ rooms were cute, the walls were shorter, and everything was colorful. Bright blue and red, purple or pink. Giant numbers, letters, and animals painted on it. Adult furniture was boring. Brown, light brown, reddish brown, chrome, white, or black.

It was no wonder people had kids; kept you from drowning in how boring being an adult could be.

And there was Clint, tucked up on one of the top bunks.

Sound asleep.

“Wake up, beautiful,” Bucky said, leaning over Clint, his mouth practically buzzing Clint’s hair. He ended it with sticking his tongue in Clint’s ear, which got him swatted and nearly knocked off the ladder, but it was worth it.

Absolutely.

“Yuck,” Clint said, finger in his ear, wiggling it around. “No call for that.”

“Sure there was,” Bucky said. “Let’s go, Sleeping Beauty.”

Clint yawned. “Yeah, we’re all done here?”

“I’ve been walkin’ around here for nearly an hour looking for you. I’m done.”

They were most of the way back to their apartment when Clint groaned. “Aw, bed, no.”

“Huh?”

“We didn’t-- we were there for hours, and we didn’t pick one!”

“Guess I’m squashin’ you in the twin again tonight,” Bucky said.

“There are worse fates.”


End file.
